


Business Days

by discountghost



Series: Ba-nananananana Batman! [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - DC Comics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Batman-verse, Crimes & Criminals, Harley Quinn!Yeosang, Hongjoong in That big fur coat, Joker!Hongjoong, Killer Frost/Nora Fries!San, M/M, Mr. Freeze!Seonghwa, Rimming, Yeosang in Fishnets y'all, author craves death after the brainstorming this brought about, cawllection, criminals, did i smash two characters together to get what i wanted for san? yes, i am: suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 03:57:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21220178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discountghost/pseuds/discountghost
Summary: Hongjoong and Yeosang, but it's just another Monday for them.





	Business Days

**Author's Note:**

> [Yeosang as Harley Quinn](https://twitter.com/DearMyFriend99/status/1188430937496772608?s=20) is literally all that inspired this fic, I cannot make this shit up.

“I thought we were going in disguise?”

“In that outfit? Sorry to break it to you, Puddin’, but they would have spotted you a mile away.”

Hongjoong watches as Yeosang pulls his pigtails taut, slender fingers delicate with their task. The other sits on the counter, nearly in the sink, to get close enough to do his makeup. He would be upset about the boots just brushing the ceramic nonsense of high tech hygiene if he was anyone else. And maybe if it was his house.

Yeosang spins around on the counter once he’s decided he’s primped himself up enough, but Hongjoong has always thought he’s looked his best at a much different angle. His lipstick has smeared only slightly, eyeshadow smudged in reds and blues against his pale skin as he hops down. 

“So, what’s the plan now, Mr. H?” The other raises a brow as he fully takes in the coat he’s wearing. Purple cheetah print on a fur coat, the spots dyed a garish green that he quite likes. It swallows up his form; makes him feel bigger. “What’re we doin’ with Moneybags downstairs?”

Hongjoong’s fingers slide over fishnetted legs, brush up against the stretched fabric of the shorts he admired on his partner in crime until they cupped the thin bridge between thigh and ass. “I was thinkin’ — why don’t you decide the plan today, dollface?” He’s rewarded with Yeosang’s eyes widening slightly. His birthmark looks a tad bigger beside his eyes and he gives into the urge to press a kiss against it.

Yeosang takes a moment to consider this proposition, wraps his arms around the other’s neck. Skin slides over skin and he shivers. The coat is wrapped around him so neatly — so unlike him — it hides how very shirtless he is underneath it. He reminds Yeosang of a present, wrapped up neatly and the slowly growing grin on his face widens.

“Why don’t we...just get rid of him and take his sweet little Cadillac for a spin? Use it as the car for the bank when we meet up with everyone?”

“I like the way you think, Sangie.”

He lets out a sweet little giggle, presses his lips to the other’s mouth. Soft, gentle kisses and soft sighs occupy them for a moment before they’re reminded of the unfinished business they have to deal with downstairs. When Hongjoong pulls away, Yeosang pouts, an unspoken complaint right there on his face. He lurches forward in his boots, fingers threading into Hongjoong’s hair. Presses another kiss against his lips like it would make any difference in what they both know will happen next.

Yeosang lets out a too happy hum as Hongjoong breaks away to nose at his neck, leave a butterfly trail along his collarbone before sliding down onto his knees and tugging at the too-tight shorts. The hum crescendos into elated, borderline hiccupy _ “Oh, Puddin’!” _s as Hongjoong works his tongue over his lover, hollows his cheeks. He shifts one leg over his shoulder, content to let his nails bite crescents into flesh as Yeosang throws his head back when his teeth close around his cock a little more. Fingers grip at strands of hair, pulling at the root as Yeosang curves himself over Hongjoong in his orgasm, rocking his hips into the warmth of his mouth and filling it while the other swallows around him. His jaw goes slack as Hongjoong rubs at the back of his thighs, pulling off to press kisses at exposed skin and get him back into his shorts begrudgingly (and with some effort).

He wants nothing more than to bask in Yeosang in his afterglow, but they have places to be. People to meet. They need to handle Moneybags McGee (a name he didn’t come up with, but would happily use if it meant Yeosang would smile; he’s more of a man with a flair for the dramatic, and there were much more dramatic names out there). They need to feed Bud and Lou — they’re waiting anxiously in the corner downstairs, huffing as they watch on with interest; the list seems to be endless.

Work never ends for the responsible ne’er-do-wells.

Hongjoong holds his waist as they wobble down the stairs, kisses uncoordinated to match their steps. Yeosang, though, manages to extract himself from the other long enough to grab his bat and tap the barb-wired end against the knee of the man they’ve had tied up in the center of the living room since yesterday evening. He jerks up in his seat, eyes blinded by his tie. Hongjoong inclines his head to Yeosang. 

“All you, Sangie.”

The other grins, prances his way over to their host. “You got a nice house here, buddy. Sorry ‘bout your sofa, though; Bud and Lou really like it.” Another giggle, and Hongjoong swoons a little as Yeosang slides his bat up the man’s leg. He watches the appendage jolt. The _ good night _ burned into the wood is splattered with a bit of blood from its previous uses.

For effect, he calls the hyenas and they scramble forward. Nip at the man’s exposed feet before Hongjoong whistles and they skitter over to him. Their nails click against the cool tile, breath fogging up on it as they lay down at his feet. Their host once more jolts, but manages to remain quiet. It’s impressive.

Yeosang removes the improvised blindfold they have on him. He’s not wild-eyed and disoriented; another surprise. But he is disheveled and unpleased with the situation as a whole. Maybe he’s not taking this as seriously as he should be.

“Really — you two are making a mistake.”

Yeosang raises a brow, but it’s Hongjoong who speaks first. “Oh, really?”

“Whatever it is you want, I can give it to you if you let me go.”

“Oh?” Yeosang scoffs, taps his shoulder with the bat. “And why would we do that?”

“You want money, don’t you? I heard you talking about a bank — I work for a bank.”

“We knew that already, you schmuck.”

“I’m the CEO.” A valiant try. Yeosang clicks his tongue.

“Why would we want this done so easily? Where’s the fun in that?”

“What — are you _ stupid? _ Someone’s going to stop you.”

The pair exchange a look. Then Yeosang practically keels over with his laughter, uses his bat to hold him up. Hongjoong has slid down the wall, Bud and Lou yipping in their own laughter as if they, too, understand how much they don’t care. The man seems disturbed, only in the prospect that he’s not the one in the right. That they _ should _ be worried and that they _ are _ idiots, but it’s a clear indication that he doesn’t know who he’s been accosted by.

“Where are your keys?” The laughter in Yeosang’s voice is there, sitting on the edge of his words. 

“What?”

“The keys for your Cadillac. Where are they?”

He looks most stricken by this. Oh, it must be his baby. “No.”

“No?” Hongjoong pushes off from the wall, head cocked to the side. “You tellin’ him no?”

“No.”

“No?”

“N-I mean, yes.”

“Yes, you’ll tell us where the keys are?”

“No!”

“Puddin’, this is making my brain hurt, can we get a move on? I really wanted to see San, and if we waste time we’ll be late.” He accentuates it with a pout, head resting against the bat leaned on his shoulder. “Won’t you pretty please tell us where the keys are so we can get out your hair?”

“You lettin’ him go?” Hongjoong’s brow rose, a smirk lingering on his face.

“Yeah. I changed my mind; he’s no fun.”

“Alright.” Hongjoong rocks back on his heels, sticks his hands in his pockets. “You heard him; give us the keys so we can be out of here.”

The man struggles with his decision a bit. They mark the time with steady taps of their shoes, raised brows as they watch him. He relents with a sigh. No sooner than the last word has left his lips, the _ good night _ swings and hits him across the face. There’s a crunch that makes Hongjoong wince as he watches the chair topple over with the man in it.

“A textbook example of a psychopath. All those big business boys are. Makes them better at their jobs to be emotionally detached and uncaring of those around them.” Yeosang crouches down, nudges the still body with the bat. “If he ain’t dead now from having his nose shoved up into his brain, maybe it’ll give him a better personality and he’ll reconsider saying next time he crosses us.”

“I love it when you speak psychology to me.”

Yeosang beams, undoes the ties around the man’s hands and legs. He whistles as he rights himself. “Bud, Lou; enjoy your meal.”

The man rouses only in time to see their retreating backs, the keys swinging from Hongjoong’s finger. The door shuts on a collaboration of screams and barking yips as the hyenas enjoy the full extent of the hospitality of their host.

“So what’s the plan now, Mr. Y?”

Yeosang lets out another one of those cute giggles, curls up into Hongjoong’s side. He peppers a barrage of kisses on his forehead, earning him the view of the other climbing to straddle him. There’s no roof to fear bumping heads into, tucked back as they cruise easily down a deserted backroad. Nicely paved, they might add. 

“I was thinking we go in all calm like; you know San and Seonghwa can be real easy with their entrances. Boring, but it would just add to everything in the end. We walk up to the teller booths in pairs, say we’s goin’ to a party or somethin’. When they start askin’ for the account numbers and ideas, you whip out your pistols and go _ bang bang _ — but they’re your fake pistols so they shoot out those little _ bang _ flags. When they’re all good and scared and wound up, we shoot the guards and get the tellers to lead us to the vault in the back. Take what we want, and skedaddle.

How’s that sound, Puddin’?”

Hongjoong doesn’t seem to respond fast enough, Yeosang’s expression falling. He’s quick to press a kiss to the birthmark on the other’s face again, glancing over his shoulder at the open road. “I think it’s a smashing idea.” He means it truthfully; it’s perfect in that it leaves them room to wiggle in if they need to, but they have a solid _ plan _ as well.

“Is it really?”

“It really is, dollface.”

Yeosang’s grin is back, a touch of mischief to it as he rolls his hips. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Better be careful while I’m driving, or we won’t make it to the party.”

“Keep talking like that and maybe I won’t wanna go.” Still, Yeosang slides out of his lap and back into the passenger seat, though not without giving another twirl of his hips.

San and Seonghwa make a pair to look at. Yeosang is hopping out of the car before Hongjoong can stop it, grinning as the other nearly plows into their partners for this heist. He can hear the acrobat exclaiming, “You’re not blonde anymore!”

San looks pleased with himself, a blush settling over his cheeks. “Nope.” Lets the _ p _ pop loudly out of blue lips. He tucks locks of dark hair behind his ear, turning his head to reveal a streak of blue at the back of his hair. “Thought it would look nice.”

“The braids are a cute touch.”

“Good for pulling, too.” San wiggles his brows in a way that all of them know too well.

“Why don’t I test it out, then?” A beat. “You got taller.”

“I hate to interject before you two start really getting talking about his new heels, but we have places we need to get to.” Seonghwa steers the two back to facing the car. Hands on San’s hips as he sashays over in a real big coat and heels that make him almost an inch taller than his beau. 

Hongjoong glances back at them as Seonghwa helps San into the car, lifts the very impractical (he’s got no place to judge, _ really _) train of the other’s dress and settles into the backseat. The metahumans press in close together, San’s head resting on Seonghwa’s shoulder while the other has a hand dipped into the coat to rest on what he assumes is thigh. Could be something else; San’s never been one to shy away from working Seonghwa up to this point and Hongjoong can only imagine what he’s been doing to pass the time.

“I must say you two are looking pretty _ frosty _.” He grins at his own pun, watches Seonghwa roll his eyes.

San, though, indulges him. Wraps his coat around him tighter and gives him a sultry look to match the grin on his lips. “Absolutely _ chilled _.”

Seonghwa gives _ something _ a squeeze as both San and Yeosang giggle, the other leaning forward now to talk to Yeosang in the front. 

“So — the heels. They a gift?”

“He wanted to see me in them.”

“And what’s up with the coat? I feel like you and Hongjoong coordinated this.”

San laughs, sweet like ice cream. “I _ wish _. Coordinating with your lover boy is hard, though.”

“So, what gives? I didn’t get a match with the other person’s boyfriend memo.” Yeosang huffs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Aw, don’t be sad. I’m wearing the coat because —”

“San, _ please _.” Seonghwa’s tone has San leaning back, quieted easily. The blush is back and the other is biting his lip, looking over the back of the Cadillac in silence. “Thank you.”

“Someone knows how to get you to chill out with spilling all your secrets, huh?”

Hongjoong can practically feel the urge Seonghwa must have to shove his fist in his mouth. 

Yeosang wastes no time. He’s rushing his partner — San, for now — out to the door, careful of the trail of the fur coat. Seonghwa grimaces as it drags along the concrete and Hongjoong pats him on the back. San’s heels click on the sidewalk and both of them (along with a handful of curious pedestrians) watch as he struts his way into the bank, followed by a very eager Yeosang holding up the ends after Seonghwa let out what could only have been called a whimper. Hongjoong catches the way San looks back at the taller man beside him, and wonders how he even survived this long married to the man.

“You ever wish you left him in that chamber?”

Seonghwa blinks, looks down at him through blond bangs. “Heavens, no. I’d miss all the fun of making him regret doing things like this.” The icy expression he’s held onto breaks momentarily with a grin.

“Good to know. You should join us sometime. Yeo could use a good punishment or two.”

“It’d be my pleasure.”

The two join their partners inside the bank, walking through easily. Plastic jack-o-lanterns litter countertops with information pamphlets flowing out of them — _ All About Loans; The Path to Homeowning; Financing Your Future _ — and something that passes as Halloween music filters through the speakers. One of the guards is dressed like a scarecrow, turning one way and then the next to watch people passing by.

Yeosang and San are already in line at the last open window, chatting away amicably. San no doubt telling the other what he couldn’t in the car. At least, that’s what Hongjoong can gather from the expression on San’s face. They should probably do the same, but small talk is kind of pointless between allied villains.

“So how’s the new tech coming?” He won’t understand a lick of it, but it’ll make them pass for at least odd patrons at this bank.

“Slow. I’ve been...distracted, as of late.”

“San’s really making up for lost time, huh?”

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Is that what you tell him when you give him just the tip?”

Seonghwa gives him a hard stare. They step forward in line. “No; I’d never use something so stupid when he gets what he asks for.”

“I thought you were making him regret misbehavin’?”

“Oh, I do. He won’t be able to walk, let alone do it in those heels when I’m done with him.”

The man in front of them coughs, glances not so subtly over his shoulder at them. The tips of his ears are red.

“I think we’re making him uncomfortable.”

“Maybe he shouldn’t be listening to someone else’s conversation.” Seonghwa says it loud enough to be heard by the person behind them, too. The man looks forward again quickly. “Now, what was I saying?”

“Something about San not being able to walk when you’re done with him.”

“Ah, yes. Speaking of, when were you wanting us to get together?”

“Obviously after this. While we’re laying low.” Movement at the corner of his vision caught his attention and he turned his head to Yeosang mouthing something at him. He squinted, not able to make it out.

Seonghwa — gloriously cold Seonghwa — seemed to be able to. “He wants to know if you called Mingi to pick up Bud and Lou.”

“Oh, I did.” Hongjoong nods, makes an _ o _ with his fingers. Yeosang beams.

“How is Mingi these days?”

“He’s getting back on his feet. He took a big hit when the Bat took out his greenhouse, so he’s been staying with us for a spell.”

“Poor thing. He had quite the collection, if I remember right.”

“Poor _ us _. He won’t stop fucking Jongho on our couch because he doesn’t ‘feel like’ going all the way to the guestroom.”

Seonghwa grimaces as they move closer. Hongjoong glances over to where Yeosang and San are. They’re already at the window, San leaned up against the counter and likely flirting easily with the person behind the window. He can practically hear Seonghwa swallow at the sight, one leg peeking out of the void of the fur coat to reveal smooth skin and pale blue stocking. 

“How can I help you?” Both men whip their head around to the teller, who blinks at them in return. 

Hongjoong leans up, taps his fingers on the counter. “We were thinking about making a withdrawal.”

“Can I get your account number?” She’s already looking down, which is great because Hongjoong now has time to whip out the pistols Yeosang gave him on his birthday last year. He sticks one against the glass of the window.

“All of them.” Before she can scream, he presses a finger to his lips as Seonghwa points a slightly larger gun in her direction. It hums as he powers it up, and she goes silent. Hongjoong steps out of line, points one gun at someone in line and another at a security guard.

Yeosang steps out of his own respective line and picks up one of the dividing poles. He wields it almost like his mallet — though it’s really not the same and Hongjoong wishes he’d thought of some way to disguise the bat, at least. The pair reach the center of the bank, grins plastered on their face as Seonghwa freezes off the exists and San blows frozen kisses at the patrons. Maybe they should have switched up their partners; but Yeosang seems pleased even as San freezes a little old lady solid.

“Ladies and Gentleman, and those in-between: this is a robbery.” Hongjoong follows it with a bow, punctuates it even further as Yeosang swings the pole and takes out a guard rushing forward. “I ask that you cooperate or my associates will be so inclined to help you _ keep it cool _.”

He’s all too pleased with himself when Seonghwa looks like he might shoot him the freeze gun. “Now, if you would, kind employees, one of you should really start directing us to where the vault is.”

One of the tellers scrambles forward, the others following suit. It’s a mousy woman, with hair pulled back into a bun and lips pulled into a grimace. “I like that energy; keep it.” He jerks his head to the side and San links arms with her, dimples popping out as he grins. 

“The rest of you: chill out.” 

“If you don’t stop making those damn awful puns, Hongjoong, so help me _ god _.”

“What’re you gonna do, give me the cold shoulder?”

Seonghwa closes his eyes, inhales. Turns his attention back to freezing people to the floor so they can’t move. “Let’s just go to the vault and get this over with.”

A guard they didn’t notice before runs at them, and Hongjoong raises a pistol, fires — the man skids to a halt. Only to realize the gun isn’t real and the loud pop is nothing more than a flag coming from the muzzle of the gun, _ Bang! _ It’s in big comic script on the flag, and a distraught lagh leaves the guard. Hongjoong laughs with him, a little louder, overpowering.

“Good joke, right?” The man relaxes a bit, nods like it’ll save his life.

Hongjoon pulls out another gun, fires it at the man again. His expression marks it as another joke, but the man on the floor can’t laugh at it now, a pool of red forming beneath him. A glance around at the quiet crowd. “What? Can’t take a joke? Now you know not to try anything.” He flits off after Seonghwa, joining the rest of their crew in their journey to the vault.

The teller, probably a supervisor for all the information she has, leads them into the back of the bank. She unlocks a big door at San’s behest, unable to decide if she’s freezing cold or if she’s sweating under the pressure and additional heat coming from San’s fur coat. Hongjoong understands; the first time he’d met Seonghwa’s then newly unfrozen husband, he’d almost drained all the heat out of him. Behind the door is a clusterfuck of nothing but wide space and the vault at the end of it.

“This...is too easy.” San glances down at the teller, eyes narrowed and glowing blue. “Lasers?”

The woman swallows. “Lasers.”

There’s a small chorus of groans, and one elated squeal. They turn their attention to Yeosang who shrugs, “I’ve always wanted to flip my way through lasers.”

“Well, now you have your chance.” San shoves an elbow into his side, a grin now on his face. He puffs out a few breaths experimentally, rubs his hands together before taking a step ahead of everyone. He cupped his mouth with his hands, inhaled and then let out a long breath of frosty air to fill the room. The lasers glow a dull red, exposed now by the chill in the air.

“Good job, Snow Bunny.” Seonghwa presses a kiss just below his ear, breath leaving his lips in a fog over the other’s skin.

“All yours, Twister.” San practically purrs as Seonghwa slips hands around his waist.

Yeosang skips forward as the trio behind him watches. They stare at his back as he tries one angle, reconsiders it and tries another. Watch as he rolls forward on his hands, bearing his weight on them as he lifts his legs up and bridges over the first laser. He fits his limbs between each line of charged atoms, legs lifting and hips spreading.

When he reaches the last line of resistance, it takes only a split and a sweep of his leg to get him to the other side. He pops up, grins and waves at the others. 

“Good work, dollface. Now deactivate the lasers.” 

Yeosang’s shoulders droop. “Do I have to?”

“How are we supposed to get in there otherwise?” Yeosang almost considers answering seriously, but San beats him to it.

“I might be able to keep up with you but I’m not taking off my coat and Seonghwa’s only flexible in the hips.” The hands on his waist tighten, but it only serves to spur him on. “Hongjoong might be a little better, but he’d have to swap for us to really know.” It’s a squeal that leaves him, when Seonghwa presses another kiss near San’s ear, whispers something into it.

“You two are disgustin’.” Hongjoong pretends to gag. “Is this what married life does to you?”

“It gives me exclusive rights to my own personal ice cream man.”

Hongjoong squints up at San, something there on the tip of his tongue, but he’s distracted by Yeosang.

“I got the code, Puddin’!”

The lasers fade to give way to empty, cold air. San and Seonghwa step in with ease, though Hongjoong shudders and beckons Yeosang over to him so they can huddle together. He turns around in time to shoot the teller, listens to her drop with a thud and then nods to himself as his attention returns to where it needs to be. Their obstacle is the door, but they’ve got something for that, too.

Seonghwa’s gun takes less than a minute to assemble, aided by San pulling parts of it from the recesses of his coat. So that’s what that was for. It’s larger than the one from before, more complicated looking.

When San steps out of the way, and towards the others, Hongjoong snickers. “I would be worried about the size of your other gun if I didn’t already have a pretty vivid image of it thanks to San.”

Seonghwa gives him another hard look as the gun fires, freezing the door over. It takes a single bullet when he’s done to shatter the whole door. 

“Look at what teamwork can do.” Hongjoong spreads his arms wide, gesture over the money bared to them.

San pulls a duffle from the void of his coat — shouldn’t Hongjoong be the one with the clown car coat? — and tosses it to the other couple before looping arms with Seonghwa and strolling into the vault like a couple out shopping for knick-knacks to go in their foyer. They drown out the monotony of the busy work of filling the duffles with chatter, mostly about plans and what’s to be done with the money. San says he wants more fur coats, another set of heels that he can teeter around their little hideaway in. Hongjoong watches the furrow in Seonghwa’s brows deepen with each sigh San lets loose and he laughs. Yeosang whines that they need to plan a movie night — just he and San — and Hongjoong has a vague idea of what the other really wants. They all do, as San looks up at Yeosang and grins.

There is no movie to be watched.

The bags are filled and they’re left with one last step: getting out. The only real obstacle to this is if the caped crusader is called in; they’re lucky it’s only the cops. They redirect to the roof, avoiding the cops stationed in the back alley they had intended to take. Seonghwa makes Yeosang and Hongjoong go up first; something about not wanting either of them with an opportunity to look up San’s gigantic coat. A fair enough trade-off for San pressing a kiss to Hongjoong’s forehead, leaving behind a chill and blue lipstick when he pulls him up the ladder. That, and he can look _ down _ the coat instead.

This is where they decide to part ways. The frosty duo take an arctic blast home, courtesy of San, and it leaves the remaining couple shivering together. Hot air swirls around them as the chopper they called for arrives, a ladder dropping down. Hongjoong scales it quickly, holds out a hand for Yeosang who grabs it without hesitation.

Part of Hongjoong _ wishes _ they’d had some confrontation. One grand event on an otherwise standard day for the pair. But Yeosang looks content with the turnout of the day, so he’s satisfied with it. They splay out in bed, Yeo leaving tender kisses along Joong’s neck. He peels back the oversized coat like he’s been wanting to all day, like a kid at Christmas unwrapping his present. He pauses, though, glances up at Hongjoong.

“Is this okay?”

Hongjoong hums in response, nods. “S’good, Sangie. This your day. You did so good.”

Yeosang beams, feels his cheeks heat when he buries his face in the other's chest. But he’s been given the green light and the praise spurs him on, kissing Hongjoong’s chest. He skirts away from the man’s nipples — he too sensitive there and as sweet a sound as he can pull from him with a simple touch, he wants something else. He travels down, pressing kisses in his wake until he gets to the tops of Hongjoong’s leather pants. Props himself up on his elbow to stare at Hongjoong through his lashes.

“Where in the world did you get these pants, Puddin’? They’re kinda distractin’.”

“You mean the same way you in those shorts is distractin’?”

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ you outta them _ all day _. Not quite as much as tryin’ to figure out what San had under that coat, but still a lot.”

Hongjoong nudges him with his foot. “Same, dollface. All I got were legs.”

“He has nice legs. Now: pants, off. I wanna eat you out ‘fore I fuck you.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Y.” 

Hongjoong sits up, shimmies out of the tight fitting leather pants with help from Yeosang. They lock lips for a moment, Hongjoong making sure to smear the other’s lipstick further. 

A wave of giggles hit as Yeosang’s fingers brush against his sides and the pair tip back onto the bed. Yeosang squeezes at plush thigh, making his way back down to the lower half of his now very exposed partner. Mouths at the fabric of his briefs — he’s kind of surprised, but not really; leather chafes and they’ve been moving all day — while glancing up at the other. Hongjoong watches with hooded eyes as Yeosang pulls back the last barrier between him and the other’s cock, standing interested and twitching with the exposure to the cooler room air.

But he skirts right on past it to dig his fingers in the other’s thighs and lift them enough that he has a good view. 

“You’re so pretty, Mr. H.”

“Can you say that to my face and not my ass?”

Yeosang giggles again, but does so only after he licks a wet stripe up to Hongjoong’s balls. The room fills with the sound of sharp intakes of breath as he works his tongue over the ring of muscle. The reactions are familiar and yet new all at once and he loves, chases it as he dives in. It doesn’t take much for Hongjoong to get worked up, leaking precum on himself. 

He pulls away only to retrieve the lube and toss his own shirt. Then he gets right back to work. Hongjoong grips at the sheets, then his own thighs as they shake when Yeosang slides in the first lube slick finger. Sinks in deep and he lets out an awed little sigh before locking eyes with the other and curling the finger. Probes inside him as they lock gazes, breaths matching. He feels the shudder that runs through Hongjoong when he adds a third finger.

His own breath hitches in his throat as Hongjoong arches his back when he finally finds the bundle of nerves he was looking for. He bears down on it for a moment, more enchanted by the way Hongjoong starts squirming. Yeosang figures if he goes any longer the other will come from just that. Hongjoong whines, clenches around nothing when Yeosang slips his fingers out.

He squeezes probably more lube than he needs to in his hands — just after squirting it over Hongjoong’s hole to hear him hiss at the cold — and slicks himself up. Their eyes meet and Yeosang grins, face flushed and makeup smeared in the way Hongjoong likes. His fishnets are probably going to be ruinous by the copious amounts of lube, but he doesn’t care so much, not what Hongjoong is giving him _ that _look.

“You just gonna stare, or are you gonna fuck me?”

Yeosang pretends to consider the answer, cocking his head to the side as his tip brushes against Hongjoong. “Maybe I’ll stare a little while longer.”

Whatever else they have to say is lost as Yeosang bottoms out, jaw clenching. Sweat beads over their skin as he settles in, Hongjoong spreading himself wider. He takes a second, rolls his hips when his breath isn’t stuttering in his chest. Hongjoong rocks back to meet each thrust until they’ve worked up to one of their erratic rhythms. It’s so perfectly orchestrated in how chaotic a rhythm it is.

Yeosang grips at Hongjoong thighs, changing the angle just so and Hongjoong throws his head back in a silent scream as his cock drags over the other’s prostate. The other feels hot, grows tighter and he has a distinct impression that he might as well be trying to suck him. It only doubles as Hongjoong strokes himself, his own harsh moans accompany the slightly higher keens leaving Yeosang.

He thinks he tips over the edge first, spilling inside Hongjoong. He goes limp with the euphoria of it just as Hongjoong makes a mess of himself and the sheets. Both are soon wet noodles rolling around in lube, spit, cum, and sweat. Hongjoong laughs when Yeosang whines about cleaning up but doesn’t move.

“Hey, Hongjoong?”

“Yeah, Sangie?”

“I love you.”

“Keep telling me that and I might have to marry you.”

Hongjoong’s laughter echoes as Yeosang tosses a pillow at him, cuddles in close with a grin.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the suffering I put myself through. Yeosangators are y'all alive after seeing y' boy as Harley bc I'm not. Maybe there will be more of this, maybe not.
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/discountghosts) / [cc](https://curiouscat.me/remeremerem)


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